


Wade Wilson is Going to Die

by riseofthefallenone



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Dom!Peter, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Pec Fucking, Pete's got it bad for Wade's perfect pecs, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Present Tense, Sex Toys, Short One Shot, Sorta I guess, Sub!Wade, Titty Fucking, mentions of switching, no beta we die like warriors, oh yes and we can't forget the..., sure it does, there's a size difference y'all i just don't specifically mention it, wade pov, webbing counts as bondage right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28134030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riseofthefallenone/pseuds/riseofthefallenone
Summary: Peter Parker is going to be the death of him one of these days. Tonight may not be it, but Peter is definitely giving it his best shot.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Spider-Man/Deadpool
Comments: 13
Kudos: 224
Collections: Isn't it Bromantic?





	Wade Wilson is Going to Die

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something short and sexy for my good friends on the Isn't It Bromantic (18+) SpideyPool Discord server. Hope y'all like! ♥

Peter's cock bumps his chin and Wade swears as he _definitely_ strains something in his neck trying to get to it. As much as he loves his Petey, can he take a moment to curse out his fucking webbing? Because _fuck his goddamn webbing_.

It's great, really. Fantastic, even. Perfect for stopping criminals in their tracks, pulling civilians out of the way, and all the other hero-y shenanigans they get up to on any ol' night of the week. Hell, Wade wishes he had a set of his own webshooters occasionally (or, all the time, but no one's keeping track).

Right now? Hates them. With a passion. He's definitely dislocated at least one of his wrists trying to free his hands from where Peter stuck them to the rooftop above his head. And now he's got a throbbing ache in the side of his neck (to match the one in his pants) where he pulled a muscle trying to get his head out of the gooey patch Peter pushed him into. He even had the foresight (because Petey is just the sharpest crayon in the box) to take Wade's mask off first so he couldn't just try and wiggle his way out of that to free himself.

Stupid smart Peter and his stupid gorgeous cock so tantalizingly out of reach.

"I hate you."

Peter's mask is rolled up over his nose. It was for the sloppy make outs that led them to where they are currently, but now it allows Wade to see the way his grin is vicious and wide. "No, you don't." Even between the panting, he's managing a sing-song tease of a voice that promises all sorts of fun in the very near future.

"No, I _definitely_ hate you."

Wade plants his feet and lifts his hips, not trying to unsaddle Peter from his chest, but definitely trying to seek some kind of friction for his own neglected cock. Peter didn't even have the courtesy of opening the front of his pants. Wee Willy Wonka is _trapped_ and how unfair is that? Poor lonely thing.

And then Peter is looming over him, kiss swollen lips barely brushing his own. "Are you wearing it?" Peter's hips never stop continuing that delicious roll, pushing his cock between Wade's pecs where his hands are cupping them together. "Tell me you put it in like I told you to. Tell me you're my good boy, Wade."

Fuck fuck _fuckity fuck_.

Just how many boxes is Peter going to check off tonight? He's already got the whole ( _super-hot_ ) dom thing going on; the bondage; the show of strength; the exhibitionism because there are seriously _so many_ places someone could see them from. Now he's adding the praise kink as a cherry on top? It's like he's _planning_ to make Wade come untouched... Which, now that he thinks about it, sounds pretty fucking awesome.

"I'm your good boy." Wade would nod if he could. "I'm _always_ your good boy, Petey." Seriously. He gave up killing for Spider-Man. For _Peter_. That had better put him on Santa's Nice List for _eternity_.

"You are, aren't you?" Peter kisses him, short but dirty, teeth dragging across Wade's bottom lip as he sits back again. "I think that deserves a reward, don't you?"

Wade is simultaneously terrified and aroused, because a reward from Peter when he's in this kind of mood could be anywhere from fucking him through the floor to riding him until Wade can't even remember his own name. All he can do is lick his lips and beg. " _Please_."

One of Peter's hands leaves his chest. He slows in his mission to fuck Wade's tits until he's friction-burned the scars off of them, but he doesn't stop. Once again, Wade wishes that he could lift his head, though this time it's not so he can get his mouth on the head of that cock every time it gets close enough to _maybe_ get a lick.

He can't see where Peter's hand goes, though judging by the twist of his shoulders it's probably just a little behind him. No fingers touch Wade's Special Place™, disappointingly enough. There's not a lot of time to wonder what Peter's up to, because his hand is back in Wade's field of vision and there's something very distinctly _remote_ shaped in it.

Flippin' flapjacks on a fairy.

"It's..."

"Remote controlled?" Peter finishes for him, clearly pleased with himself. "Yes, yes, it is."

His thumb slides along the dial on the front of the remote and the plug in Wade's ass lights up like a firecracker. It's hardly the weirdest thing he's had in his body during a patrol, but Wade was definitely aware of it (and half hard because of it) for most of the night. Now the fucking thing is snug up against his prostate and purring like a jet engine, and the only thing that keeps him from screaming is Peter's other hand clamping tight over his mouth.

"Nuh-uh, Wade." Peter shakes a finger at him as he clicks his tongue. "No one else is allowed to hear the sounds you make for me, remember? They're _mine_."

Fucking _shit._

Wade is gonna die.

He's going to die on a rooftop in the middle of Manhattan with Spider-Man's dick between his tits and a vibrating plug in his ass. All because Peter Parker is (against all odds) a _Sex God_.

This - _none_ of this - was what Wade was expecting when he learned Spider-Man was really a nerdy little dude with fake hipster glasses, too many layers to hide that _smokin'_ bod, and an unhealthy addiction to caffeine. But fuck if he doesn't appreciate the ever-living hell out of it as he screws his eyes shut hard enough to see stars.

The scream dies out into a whimper and Peter replaces his hand with his lips again. "You're so good, Wade. I'm going to take _such_ good care of you tonight. I promise."

And as impatient as Wade is to come, and to watch Peter come apart on top of him (and, heck, painting him up a lil bit would be nice too), he knows that Peter will keep his word. He's kinda perfect like that.

**END**


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